


get out of my dreams (get into my car)

by jackieburkhart



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Carl Grimes Needs a Hug, Conflicted Carl Grimes, M/M, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25847596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackieburkhart/pseuds/jackieburkhart
Summary: It's a long journey back to Alexandria from Carl's failed mission at the Sanctuary and Negan intends to make the best of it.
Relationships: Carl Grimes/Negan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	get out of my dreams (get into my car)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [simpfnegan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpfnegan/gifts).



Carl felt the weight of failure on his shoulders as he slumped into the too-small front seat of Negan's truck. He could already imagine his dad pulling him aside, reprimanding him in that way that made his teeth grind, his jaw clench. It got more frustrating every week, the way that everyone cowered when Negan thumped Lucille on those front gates and sauntered in as if he belonged, the way that his father and leader bowed his head, spoke in quiet tones. Carl had managed to put up with it for a few weeks but taking away their guns and their mattresses had been the last straw. Negan knew what taking their guns away meant, it left them defenceless with their power stripped away, it forced them to depend on lesser melee weapons which would be useless against a large number of walkers or if they were raided again. Carl knew what his father would say when he came home, knew what look would be on his face; disappointment and fear all at once but when Jesus had offered him the chance to go with him, he hadn't hesitated, not for a second.

As the truck had gotten nearer and nearer to the Sanctuary, Carl had already begun to accept the very real possibility that this might be a one-way trip, that he would never make it back home. An attack on Negan could very well cost him his life in the same way that Daryl's stubbornness had cost Glenn's but if it meant that Alexandria had a chance to go back to the life they had once had before the Saviours then his sacrifice would be worth it. Except, Negan had survived his attempt and hadn't killed him or ordered someone to do it for him, he had offered him his hand instead, a twinkle of excitement in his eyes and in the way that his lips curved upwards while looking down at him. The last thing that Carl had expected had been Negan's strong hand gripping his softer one tightly then Negan's hand moving to his back, guiding him around the Sanctuary and showing him all it had to offer. The grin around the words, "Check this out," felt giddy, childish as if this was the most fun that the man had in a while. The mocking of his most sensitive flaw, his morbid, empty socket where his eye had once been, felt more like the man that he was used to, who wasn't afraid to mock, tease and make others cry for his own amusement. It was the apologies that left him stumped, awkward, stumbled and sighed out. It was the "You look rad as hell," that left him staggered, trying to understand the sudden thump in his chest, trying to crush the pride that swelled up in him as his biggest insecurity was complimented for the first time.

The confusing feelings had become twisted as he watched Negan place a burning iron on one of his own. It felt harsh and too different from the punishments at home, reminded him of the harshness of the road and the young man that they had almost executed on Hershel's farm years ago. It was a terrifying rush, wondering why Negan hadn't done the same to him for a worse crime, hands trembling at the power this man held as nobody in the crowd stopped him or complained. The confusion left him unsettled, he was tired of waiting for punishment or for penance so he pushed.

"Why the hell _not_?!" and "You should jump out the window to save me the trouble of killing you," expecting Negan's hand to collide with his cheek or a burning iron to the good side of his face but nothing had come, just a wide smile and a scrunch of his nose that had Carl berating himself for finding it attractive. 

Now, sitting too close to Negan in the truck, Carl wondered why he hadn't just killed the man as he thought of all the things that could go wrong back home because of him. He reimagined the scene from that night, Rick, Michonne and Judith on their knees as Negan swung his bat, bashing over and over, _bang bang_. Carl blinked the horrifying image away, he couldn't let himself think too long on that, becoming more restless by the second. Carl gripped the wheel tightly, counting down how long it would take to reach Alexandria, desperate to have something to focus on instead of the dark, dangerous thoughts that this man brought out in him. He could practically feel Negan's grin even if he couldn't see it, his presence insidious and smothering around him.

"I gotta say, kid, I respect these man-sized balls of yours, even if they did try to get me killed." 

Carl rolled his eye as the man talked, wondering if it was possible for Negan to speak without being vulgar. Before he could snark back and ask, Negan continued. 

"I mean, your dad saw me bash in two skulls and now he can't even look me in the eyes! But you," he murmured, sounding too impressed and proud considering what Carl had done, "You go on a mission to find me, you _do_ find me then you kill two of my men without a blink, tried to kill me and still fought Dwight when he pushed you down. God, you're something else." 

"I'm not sure that you should be complimenting the person who tried to kill you," Carl muttered, determined to keep his eye on the road, not wanting to get lost in Negan's frustratingly beautiful dark eyes or to see the pride that he so craved swirling in those dark irises. The man next to him still sounded too giddy when he replied. "When was the last time you did something you were meant to do? Does Rick the Prick-" Negan cut himself off, guffawing at his own joke which had Carl's jaw tightening despite the impulsive quirk of his lips; Negan's laugh was contagious even if his jokes were stupid. "Sorry," he continued, "does Daddy Rick know that you're out and about in enemy territory? Cause I'm betting that he told you to stay safe at home away from the big, bad wolf. But look at you, the moment he's not there to hold you back, you pounce! Heh, maybe you're not a sheep after all. Maybe you're a big, bad wolf too. Small, bad wolf?" He grins as if messing with Carl is his favourite pastime and all he can do is roll his eye again. 

"Do you always talk this much?" Carl demanded testily, wondering if it would be too obvious if he sped up the truck to get home sooner. Negan's own response is evasive, a question as an answer, "What do you think?" 

Negan's shuffling in his seat now, reaching for some CD's with one hand while another arm comes to rest on Carl's shoulder. The contact feels warm and more comfortable than it should but the seat is too constricting for him to move away from that forbidden touch so he grits his teeth and replies, "I think you do talk too much. I hear that loving one's voice so much could be seen as overcompensating." It's not until Carl finishes speaking that he realises that he may have taken the bait. Negan laughs next to him, too loud in the same way that the man himself is as his hand moves from Carl's shoulder to his leg, gripping his knee slightly, "What exactly am I overcompensating for, hmm? Do you want to check to make sure?" 

Carl feels his whole body go warm, almost feverish and wishes he hadn't spoken. He feels the man's hold on his leg go slack, his voice deceptively sweet, "You've gone pretty red there, kid. You feeling alright?" There's a smile around those words too but softer, teasing and almost fond in a way that Carl can't bear to think about or look at, shifting his eye back to the road ahead. He's clearly been pondering his response for too long because Negan speaks again, his hand still noticeably on his thigh. 

"What're you thinking? I gotta ask because I can't read your mind. Wish I could, I bet there are some messy, messy thoughts for me to pick at." 

There _are_ messy, scrambled thoughts that Carl is terrified to ponder on, dark things like the kid he shot at the prison, the wish that he'd killed Ron before he had pulled the trigger and left him ruined, the frustration he feels at his mother for leaving him no other choice but to shoot her despite the love he still has for her, the anger he feels at his dad, sharp and biting for his weaknesses and the way that every day that passes, Rick has less time for him. The way that he wishes he had been the one to kill those men at the railroads, the ones who had held a gun to his dad's temple and threatened to _rape_ him and Michonne. Carl had watched his dad bite one's throat out then stab the other over and over and wished that it had been him doing it. He can't say any of these things to Negan, however. His thoughts are like ammunition, valuable and dangerous to hand over so he asks questions back instead, deflects. 

"Why didn't you punish me like you punished that man today?" and "Why did you stop my dad from cutting off my hand?" 

The strange thing is, Carl wants to tell Negan those thoughts, every last one. He knows the potential danger, the fact that Negan could easily use them against him further down the line but the idea is still tempting. He'd never be able to tell anyone at home, he knows what they'd say, how they'd look at him and he can't bear the disappointment. He knows that Negan wouldn't be able to judge, not with the things he's done, he would understand the desires that keep him up at night in ways that nobody else ever would. The man next to him hums, hand trailing up and down his thigh, almost absently as if he doesn't quite realise it. Negan's other hand comes on the wheel and Carl understands the message and stops the car. Negan turns to Carl fully, "You ever played 21 questions, kid?" The question seems odd coming from the man in front of him but he carries on without letting Carl answer, "How about, I ask you something, you give me a good answer and that earns you a reply to any question you want."

The game reminds him of a similar one with Michonne, clearing out rooms for answers, something for something else. He thinks back to Negan making him sing the song that his mother had sung for him and wonders if Negan knows that he's rewriting his important memories, imprinting himself. "Okay," Carl replies, "ask your question." 

Negan's fingers thump on the truck's door, humming to himself before turning to Carl again, their eyes locked. "Who was the first person you killed?" 

Carl lets out a shaky breath, once again wondering if Negan could somehow read his mind before pushing the thought away; Negan didn't need to read minds, he was skilled at picking out weaknesses in others. "I was fourteen and we lived somewhere else, far away from Alexandria. We ended up fighting with another group who wanted to get rid of us. During one of the fights, I went into the forest with someone else from my group and Judith. She was just a baby back then." Carl moves to fidget, to look away from Negan's eyes which had held his gaze this entire time but Negan puts one hand between his own and the other goes to his chin, squeezes so softly that he barely feels it, then tilts his head up again. Carl's chest feels tight and he can feel his cheeks go warm again at the contact. 

"Go on," Negan whispers, his voice so rich and sultry that it's almost dizzying in the way it compels him. 

"We were in the forest and this kid, he was around my age now, seventeen or eighteen and he had a gun. I pointed mine at him and he put his hands up, said that he was surrendering so I told him to put the gun down but he was too slow as if he was waiting for me to lower my guard. I couldn't, so I shot him." Negan whistles lowly, "Careful and guarded at that age? You really are something else. Tell me, how'd your dad take it?" Carl knows why he's asking, knows the point that Negan wants to make but admits the truth anyway, "He took my gun away after that. Tried to get me to focus on other things. Farming, talking to other kids, stuff like that." At this, Negan bursts out laughing, as if the idea of Carl as a farmer is too ridiculous for him to conjure up. "That'd be a waste of talent, kid. If _I_ had you," Negan's own breath shakes this time as he trails off and Carl's fingers tremble in his grip. He feels hollowed out, exposed to someone that he'd tried to assassinate an hour ago.

"Why didn't you punish me like that man today?" 

"You intrigued me, Carl. I want you to keep on intriguing me though, maybe lessen the murder attempts, hmm? You know some might see what I did as punishment. Breaking your balls a bit about your eye, some would see that as messed up. Hell, it is, but I was trying to make a point and show you something back there too. Wanted to show you that you don't have to cover it up, that's how you turn a weakness into a strength. You cover that up and anyone can tell you're ashamed of it, but you don't cover it up and then people know not to mess with you. Has anyone else ever told you how badass it is?" 

Carl shakes his head, unable to form words, wonders how Negan can read him so well. 

Negan's hand reaches up to brush his hair back and Carl shudders, hating how exposed he feels, how vulnerable. Negan's fingers brush the edge of his socket so carefully that it's almost a phantom touch but it still makes his hairs stand and his hands tremble. The intimacy is striking and so unlike anything that he's used to. Carl knows he should be pulling away, snarking back but he can't, he didn't know how much he craved intimacy like this until now. "When I told you that it looked rad as hell, I meant it. Not just anyone survives this kind of wound and goes on fighting. It's something to show off, Carl. Shows that you don't die easily." 

He doesn't understand why he's listening, how he can keep taking whatever Negan says to heart, how the same man who is meant to be his enemy can comfort him in ways that nobody has and soothe the ache he feels constantly by complimenting the very thing that he's most ashamed about. 

"Who did this to you?" Negan's fingers are still brushing across his wound, the touch kept gentle but the rough pads making him shudder as the touch sends small spikes of pleasure through him.

"A friend. Or someone who was, at one point. I wasn't used to being around other kids and when I came to Alexandria I met more. There was this other kid called Ron who I hung out with sometimes but my dad killed his dad for killing someone else in the community. One of the people that had built it. Ron blamed my dad and tried to kill me to get back at him. I stopped him but I didn't say anything. His family died soon after that, eaten by walkers and he lost it, tried to shoot my dad but Michonne stabbed him and it ended up hitting me instead. Afterwards, I wished I had killed him when I had the chance." 

Negan exhales sharply, shaking his head, "What an asshole." Carl wants to say more, suddenly a thousand questions in his head but he knows that he'll soon be out of time before Negan tells him to start driving again so he pushes down the curiosity that this man brings out in him. "Why did you stop my dad?" Negan raises Carl's hand, the one that would have been cut off and holds it in his own, making Carl's breath hitch. Negan's eyes meet his own again and- when had they gotten so close? He could feel Negan's breath softly on his cheek and wonders, for a second too long, how the man would react if he shifted closer.

"It wasn't necessary then. Believe it or not, I only act violently when the occasion calls for it. I needed that prick to understand what the stakes were, how dangerous it could be to break the rules but going through with it was never part of my plan." At this, Negan's lips curved upwards, "Anyways, from man to man, getting rid of your hand isn't the best thing I could do for you." The tease is ridiculous, almost childish and it makes him roll his eye but he's helpless to the way that he flushes red again, much to Negan's obvious pleasure. 

"What are we doing?" 

"Well, you're meant to be giving me a _ride_." 

Carl turns to Negan again, heart hammering at the suggestive tone and the man laughs, "To _Alexandria_ , kid. Geez, get your mind out of the gutter." 

Carl huffs, feeling ridiculous as he turns the wheel sharply, leaving a cloud of smoke behind. 

**Author's Note:**

> a big thank you to @simpfnegan for turning this small idea into a great one <3  
> although distances are inconsistent on the show and depend on what they need to happen, it's been calculated that the two settlements are quite a few miles away from each other, with Eugene mentioning it being around two hours but on another occasion appearing to be more so it seemed interesting to explore what a long car journey with these two might have been like.


End file.
